


Heat

by bluehooodie



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Cegan, Consensual Underage Sex, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, M/M, NSFW, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Underage Sex, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-02-12 01:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12948486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluehooodie/pseuds/bluehooodie
Summary: A spin-off of the infamous S7 Ep 1 where Carl is captured and taken back to the Sanctuary instead of Daryl. From there on Carl finds himself in awkward positions with Negan, and hopes to resolve the major issues between the two groups before things tumble into all-out war. Through their tense relationship, will Carl and Negan reach a solution? Or will the climax of their troubled lives be too much?edit: **INCOMPLETE AND ABANDONED**explanation in the ch.3 notes. sorry!





	1. Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> woohoo! first chapter. mostly exposition, I suppose you can skip it if you want to.

Carl blinked awake and stared at the walls around him. He yawned and stretched, momentarily forgetting about what had happened the night before. The memories flooded back, as did the horrible feeling in his chest. Abraham and Glenn were dead. He had killed them. Negan. Carl’s face scrunched up at the mere thought of him. He remembered the noises the most. He kept hearing them over and over in his head. He could feel tears welling up in his one remaining eye, but he wiped them away and pushed the lump in his throat back down. He stared at the door of the cell, the dim light from under the crack shining through, faintly illuminating the grim and alarmingly stained floor of the tiny room.

  
However, that was the least of Carl’s worries. He had no idea of the status of his group. His father, Daryl, Maggie… Judith. After Abraham was murdered, Carl had an outburst towards Negan. His punishment was not only the murder of Glenn, but being taken captive as well, no doubt creating serious anguish for his father. Carl felt for the gun usually at his hip almost instinctively, only half-surprised to find it missing. His knife was gone as well. His knees hurt from kneeling in the gravel for so long the previous night. A small inconvenience.  
Carl flinched when the door handle shifted. He stood up, and watched the large metal door creak open until the light from outside lit up the cell entirely. No one was there. He wanted to run and was just about to take a step when he heard an ominous whistle from just around the corner. Negan’s muscular shape filled the doorway nearly entirely, his frightening baseball bat characteristically hung over his shoulder.

  
“Well, howdy!” His booming voice filled the tiny room. “I suppose you’re wondering what I’m planning to do with you, now that you’re here, huh kid?”  
Carl didn’t reply, but never took his eye away from the brooding man’s face. He took a step backwards, continuing to glare until Negan spoke again.

  
“You do know why you’re here, don’t you?” Negan smiled and bent his knees a bit to be eye-level with Carl. “Cause you and that smart temper of yours got your friend killed,” he uttered slowly, so that Carl could hear the intensity in his voice.  
Carl broke his stare into the older man’s eyes and gritted his teeth, looking at the ground.

  
“You killed them.”

  
The older man chuckled, and used his free hand to rub his salt and pepper beard, the other still holding the barbed wire baseball bat.

  
“You’re Goddamn right I did. But, Carl-” Negan pointed the bat directly at the younger boy’s face, “You were the one who punched _me_.”  
With that, he stood up and murmured something to one of his followers before turning back to Carl. He had leaned against the wall and slid down, a sudden lightheadedness overtaking his mind; still avoiding the man’s gaze.  
A brownish object fell near his feet, causing his legs to flinch back. His hat.

  
“You’ll make a good Savior, cowboy,” Negan grinned as he announced his parting remark, before having another of his goons shut the door.

  
Carl took the hat and placed it on his head, appalled at how he had forgotten it. Negan’s words rattled in his mind, and he placed his face in his hands, unsure of what his next move should be.  
There was absolutely no way he could become a Savior. Negan killed his friends, and threatened to do worse to his father. The gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach tightened.  
He had to make a decision. Go along with whatever Negan had in store for him, and hope to escape somehow later, or try his best to fight back and show no submission. The latter seemed like an impossible task.

  
For the rest of the day, or at least for as long as he could tell in the dim cell, Carl thought about his options. The grief of losing his companions and the anxiety of not knowing the status of the rest of his group still tore him inside. The noises came back to him, as did the tears of last night. He rested his face in his palms and leaned against the wall adjacent to the door. And he cried, tears flooding his cheek from his good eye. A sob escaped every now and then.

  
The door creaked open, at a normal pace this time. There were no whistles, and no footsteps.  
Carl immediately wiped his tears in a futile effort to hide his weakness.  
Negan entered, closing the door only halfway behind him. He carried a lantern in one hand, casting a soft golden glow throughout the whole space. In his other, he did not carry the baseball bat Carl had come to know as Lucile, but instead a tray of food that smelled suspiciously good.  
Carl’s breath shuddered as he inhaled, eyeing Negan as he made his way towards the hungry boy.

  
“Were you cryin’ just now?” He asked, his constant smirk still resting on his lips. He squatted and placed the tray down in front of Carl, an assortment of what seemed to be a sandwich, fruit, and even a sugar cookie was neatly arranged.  
Carl shook his head in response to the question, though the redness of his face and a spontaneous sniffle said otherwise.

  
“I gotta say, I did not take you for the cryin’ type, Carl,” Negan looked at the teenager in his eye, and shifted a bit close for comfort as he set the lantern down next to the tray. Carl noted he smelled of alcohol and cologne, a scent he was definitely not used to in his apocalyptic life.

  
“Why?” Carl inquired cautiously, looking down at the food he’d been given.

  
“You don’t seem like the kinda kid who wallows in his shit,” Negan smiled, still making eye contact with Carl. He pushed the tray towards the boy a few inches, increasing the uncomfortableness of the moment for Carl.

  
“Now eat,” the older man commanded. Carl was unsure if he meant right then and there, or after Negan left. He didn’t really care either way, but he didn’t want to risk making the madman upset. Negan stood up and took a few steps back, crossing his arms. Carl took this to mean he was staying and wanted to watch him eat for whatever reason. He reached for the fruit first, a small plastic cup of diced peaches and pears, with a few grapes and maraschino cherries thrown in. There was a small plastic fork placed neatly in line with everything else, which Carl used to devour the fruit. It was the best tasting thing he’d had in a long time.

  
“Liking it, huh?” Negan gave a small laugh.

  
Carl didn’t respond, and instead took monstrous bites of the sandwich, barely chewing before he swallowed each piece. It was a ham and cheese on toasted bread, surprisingly still warm. The cookie was gone in a flash as well.  
The teenage boy felt almost comforted by the food in a way. The apocalypse had kept him on a strict diet over the years, and aside from the rare stale candy bar or tub of pudding, he hadn’t had anything appetizing in a while.

  
“Jeez, kid. Not gonna lie, you impress me,” Negan grinned toothily and stared down at Carl; the boy was looking at the ground near the man’s feet.  
“Why?” He asked abruptly.

  
“Why what?” Negan responded.

  
“Why am I here?”

  
Negan scoffed and licked his upper lip in frustration. “You got your-”

  
“No,” Carl cut off the man, and resumed his gaze into Negan’s eyes. “What are you going to do with me?”

  
“Aw, getting curious now, aren’t we, Carl?” Negan tilted his head in a mocking manner, but he didn’t answer the question. He took a few steps over to the door and opened it, an orange light from the setting sun filtering through.

  
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” the muscular man taunted, and closed the door, leaving Carl to himself with the empty tray, the lantern, and a bottle of water that he hadn’t noticed Negan left for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!  
> So this is the first chapter... let me know how it was! I've had it in the works for a while now, but I'm excited to finally get it done!! Also its not meticulously edited or anything but if there are any glaring errors I'm sorry ;o; also I write shortish chapters but hopefully that means there will be more of them!  
> Also !!  
> *SPOILERS*  
> can we please talk abt the s8 mid-season finale. wtf carl. don't die pls I can't take that,, I've read some theories on how he might live but I don't think he will and it breaks my heart I CAN T
> 
> but all in all idk how often I'll update this depending on how people like it.. but take care of yourself everyone!! have a good night~


	2. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan lets Carl out of his cell, yada yada.

Carl remained in the tiny cell for nearly 3 days, based on Negan’s visits and the coming and going of light under the door. It felt like much longer, however. He spent his time in captivity by trying his best to think of a plan that involved as little risk as possible. After he lost his eye, he’d become a lot more considerate of the lives around him; Negan was the only exception. The man made him burn inside, and not the good kind of burn. It drove him mad; Negan was the only one to see him. No other Saviors ever opened the door. Carl only heard their footsteps in passing outside his cell. During a visit from Negan that was beginning to feel routine, Carl wiped the sweat from his forehead. It was extremely humid in the small room; the summer Virginian sun made sure to bake the Sanctuary extraordinarily well. Negan opened the heavy door without effort and walked in, shutting the door behind him. Something was different, but Carl couldn’t put his finger on what.

  
The older man tossed a water bottle in his direction, a few droplets splattering the room’s floor from the inevitable condensation. It landed with a thunk next to the boy’s sitting body. Carl flinched and immediately inwardly scolded himself for showing weakness. Negan stood directly across from Carl, smiling his devilish grin. Lucille was leaning against the wall behind him, and his arms were folded across his chest.

“What do you want?” Carl glared at the man, frustrated.

Negan chuckled, “Just lookin at ya.”  
He squatted down, now eye-level with the sitting boy. His leather jacket was unzipped, a white t-shirt visible through the gap.

  
“Can I go?” Carl asked and huffed, now simply annoyed at his small damp cell and grinning captor.

  
“You’ve been in here what, like 2 days?” The older man pretended to ponder, scratching his beard and looking at the stained ceiling.

  
“3,” Carl corrected with a snarl.

“Shit, then. Usually we only keep em’ in here for 2. Musta lost track of time, what with the trouble your daddy’s been givin’ me ever since I took you.”  
Negan stood up quickly, grabbed Lucille and advanced towards Carl, gaining a twinge of fear from the younger boy’s frame. He began to rise to meet the man’s stature, but was cut short with a wave of the barbed wire bat mere inches from the boy’s scarred face.

  
“Now, Carl… you ain’t gonna be like him, are you?” His grin faded and he took a colder stare at the boy, speaking slowly, “You ain’t gonna give me trouble?”

  
Carl hesitated only a moment before muttering “N-no.” still maintaining eye-contact. He swallowed out of fear, an audible gulp coming from his throat. Negan was leaning over him, Lucille still pointed at the boy. The smile crept slowly back to his face, and he removed the threatening bat from Carl’s face.

  
“Good,” Negan laughed heartily and turned around, opening the heavy door and strutting out, letting it swing slowly closed behind him. Carl’s eyes followed the door shut, and he waited for the consecutive “click” of the padlock keeping him inside. However, he heard only silence and the shuffling of footsteps. The door hadn’t been locked.

  
He wondered momentarily if this was on purpose or by accident, so he took a few moments before standing up to check if he could open it. He jiggled the handle. Loose.  
The adolescent attempted to be quiet as he could be and adjusted his hat before heaving the door open. The creak that had become so familiar over the past 3 days announced itself again, and Carl poked his head out before opening the door all the way. There appeared to be no one there, and he took a cautious step out.

  
This could be a trick… The thought hovered in his mind. He let the door swing shut, closing it as silently as possible, which wasn’t very much at all considering it was steel on steel. Carl looked at the handle of the door in search of the unlocked padlock, but didn’t see it anywhere. This registered in his mind as a threat, since someone had deliberataly removed it. Just as he was about to turn around, he heard the low voice that had haunted him for the past few days.

  
“Lookin’ for this?” Negan stood leaned against a wall, the padlock in his hand, Lucille in the other. His jacket was nowhere to be found, exposing his muscled tattooed arms. Carl froze, unsure of what to do. Negan strode a few feet closer, resting the bat on his shoulder. Carl shook his head to rouse himself out of the trance, and looked towards the ground, anticipating some sort of reprimand or punishment for leaving the cell.

  
“Seems to me like we don’t gotta keep you in there anymore,” the older man said, beads of sweat clinging to his forehead. Smiling all the while, he moved around Carl, circling him; the word ‘predator’ found itself into the teen’s head. He felt surrounded, even though there was only one man posing a threat to him. It should have been easy.

  
“What, no spunky re-mark?” Negan leaned back on bent knees as he said this, slowly inching closer to the boy. “Not even a glare with that one beautiful eye a’ yours? Damn.”

Carl’s breath quickened at this half-compliment, but he gritted his teeth and remained silent. Negan moved nearer to his face, looking down a solid 6 inches before he even came close to the same height.

  
“You know, you scare me, kid. Really, you do,” Negan twirled the padlock on his index finger seemingly absentmindedly. “I mean, most of my men don’t even got the balls to do what you did back there. I gotta say as much as that pissed me off, it was damn impressive.”

  
Negan whispered the “impressive” into the boy’s ear, causing a spontaneous shudder to run through Carl’s body. His hair fell to cover his eyes as a result, much to the older man’s dismay. Negan reached to move the hair from his face, but Carl jolted away, confused and a bit uncomfortable at his captor’s movements.

  
“Now that simply will not do if you're to become a Savior. Nope indeed. See kid,” Negan slammed the end of lucille into the floor, causing a few sparks to fly from the barbed wire hitting the metal, “You gotta do what I say ‘round here. You probably don’t think it, but this is my happy mood. And I swear to fucking God you do not want to make me unhappy.”  
Carl flinched at the outburst, but looked up from the floor and stared the man down, a bit of his courage returning.

  
“You’re fucking crazy.”

  
This earned a booming laugh from Negan, one that was surely heard by any Saviours nearby. He wiped the false tears from his eyes in a dramatic display of humor, before holding his arms out in gesture to their surroundings.

  
“Ah, kid. We’re all fucking crazy. Welcome to the Sanctuary.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I'm so sorry you guys. I meant to write this so long ago but I only finished it tonight. pls forgive me :"0  
> Anyway, I hope you like this chap. its longer than the last one, and I think ch 3 should be well on its way this weekend. things are heating up hahaaaa
> 
> Please let me know of any blatant mistakes I missed so I can fix them <3 thanks  
> also would love critiques and feedback in general. I'm already kind of changing the characters, but I don't want to deviate TOO much.
> 
> BUT FLIPPInG CARL IN THE MID-SEASON FINALE NOOOOO!!!! I am so sad oh my goddd  
> I actually hate scott gimple now, it will be hard to continue watching ugh. carl's my baby i cri
> 
> ok, love ya'll. take care of yourselves and hope you enjoy <3


	3. Flickering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **INCOMPLETE AND ABANDONED**
> 
> Negan gives Carl a tour of the Sanctuary, including his bedroom...

Carl’s eye flicked nervously about the building, trying to make note of its entries and exits; remember who was guarding what and where. His wrists were locked in handcuffs to prevent him from trying anything as they moved about the Sanctuary. They were stopped on the balcony above part of the main floor. There were several people below, all bustling about doing whatever task they were assigned. They kneeled when they noticed their leader, some a bit hesitant, especially after seeing the enemy’s son standing next to him. The man gave them permission to return to normal before turning back to Carl. Negan was giving him a “tour” as he’d called it, though the boy hardly felt like a tourist.

“So you think you’d fit in here?” Carl ignored the question.

More like an animal on a leash, he thought; on display for all the citizens of the Sanctuary. Negan was behind him with Lucille draped over his shoulder, occasionally swinging it about to point out this feature or that, or a person that Negan had troubles with. To Carl, he seemed like the kind of man who’d have some trouble with everyone, before and after everything went to shit. He started to wonder if Negan was always this brutal as well, or what could cause someone to become that way- when his thoughts were abruptly interrupted.

“Hello?” The man’s hand waved back and forth in front of Carl’s face almost comically, startling the teen. He immediately tensed and stepped backwards.

“Listen when you’re spoken to,” Negan said in a stern gravelly voice, as if scolding a child. It was surprising to Carl that the first emotion he felt aside from the initial fear was embarrassment. He expected to be angry that he was being treated as a little kid, even in the midst of his enemy, but instead he felt humiliated. Whether it was because he didn’t want to appear weak in front of Negan and the Saviors, or some other unknown cause, he didn’t let it stick in his mind too long.

“I’d never fit in with you,” Carl glared up at the man, his worn cowboy hat casting a dark shadow over his face.

“Oh there it is! There’s that kid with the guts from earlier!” Negan made sure to raise his voice so that other Saviors and citizens could hear him.

“Now c’mon, let’s get movin’.” He tapped the barbed wire baseball bat on the steel bars of the balcony as an indication to Carl to start walking again. They continued the so-called tour until the balcony stopped at a crossroads with a hallway with several doors on one side. Carl presumed they were offices or something at one point, but guessed they now were more likely to be bedrooms for the higher-ups. Neither of them said a word until they reached the very last door at the end of the corridor, slightly larger than the rest and with a blank placard in the center. Negan leaned Lucille against the wall before fishing through his dark denim jean pockets. Carl eyed the bat and momentarily wondered if he could grab it in time despite the cuffs on his wrists, but the man found what he was looking for and picked it up again before the boy could act. Negan quickly unlocked the door with the key from his pockets and opened it to reveal a quite lavish bedroom. It had to be Negan’s room.

Carl hesitated before stepping inside, noticeably nervous.

“Aw kid, you got nothin’ to be scared of! I just wanna see what grandma got me,” Negan smiled suspiciously and roughly pushed Carl inside with the wired end of Lucille, almost causing him to trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super sorry guys. this fic will very likely never be updated again...
> 
> I've just lost all motivation for it and haven't touched it since June, but I figured I should post what I had instead of just leaving it w/o explanation. I' stopped watching TWD altogether since even before that...
> 
> so enjoy these last and forever unfinished 600 words or so, lol.  
> it was fun!  
> I do have more fics in progress, so you can at least expect something, probably not TWD related though.
> 
> love y'all..stay safe and happy <3


End file.
